I'm Trying Here
by Riot-Artist
Summary: SMUTTY ONE-SHOT. What if Beth didn't live from the funeral home herd overtaking the place? What if Carol, Tyreese, and Judith found the group on the road and never went to Terminus? Will something happen between Carol and Daryl? CARYL!


**So, my muse for writing has been gone for a while. An idea for a one-shot (possible multi-chapter) came into my head. Please review and tell me if you enjoy this story or not. Hopefully my muse for me two AU stories will come again. I'm sitting and eating Dulce De Leche Häagen-Dazs ice cream, listening to SeaNanners on YouTube play GMod Murder while I write this. Hopefully this odd combo will fuel my muse! (Lol). I wanna see how many reviews I can get on one story!**

****DISCLAIMER: MA RATING. IF IT'S NOT YOUR THING DO NOT READ!****

Daryl sat on the back of the truck, his crossbow in his lap. Eyes downcast onto the floor, he listened to the reunion Carol, Tyreese, and Judith with the rest of the group. Yet, he was thinking about what had happened so far. Beth had died at the funeral home, trapped by walkers in the basement. He took her death hard, as she was his responsibility, and now Maggie was sister and father-less; she hadn't moved from the same spot that she was in when she heard the news of her little sister's death. Glenn stood at her right, murmuring softly to his wife, his hand rubbing circles on her lower back.

The soft cooing of Judith made him look up, his blue eyes meeting mirror images of his own. Carol was a few feet in front of him, her hands crossed over her chest. Her white shirt clung to her dirty and sweaty skin, blood and mud staining her brown jacket and dark-green cargo pants. His eyes trailed up her frame and landed on her longer silver hair, which stood in all directions around her face.

The thing that drew his attention over and over again was her shoes, new combat boots that reached mid-calf. An exposed zipper lined the insides of her shoes, red cloth on either side the silver metal.

"Daryl?" Her voice was soft yet firm, drawing his eyes back to her face. His hands tightened on his bow as he met her eyes, a mix of emotions adorning her face: hurt, sadness, happiness, excitement, and something else he couldn't identify.

He swallowed, licking his now-dry lips. "Carol." His voice was gruff and deep, years of smoking turning his voice rough. He didn't expect her to step up and wrap her arms around him, yet he found himself returning the hug. Nuzzling his nose into her neck, her scent of vanilla and woman filled his nose and made him want more. His lips grazed her neck as he muttered, "You better stick by me. You're down to about three of those nine lives."

A chuckle rumbled through her body to his, and he gripped her tighter to him. "Missed you so damn much woman." When she pulled back to look at him in question, he slanted his lips over hers in front of everyone, and he could feel his face heat up.

Immediately, he felt her lips move in time with his: soft against rough, full against thin. His hands gripped her hips and pulled her as close as he could, his crossbow still in between them. A subtle taste of vanilla tinged her lips, and he found himself wondering if she tasted like that everywhere.

Before he could find out, she pulled back and rested her forehead against his. Chests brushed each other as they fought for breath. "Not in front of everyone." She gestured to everyone in the group watching them, and his face burned ten times as hot from his blush.

Nodding, he kissed her again quickly before letting her go, watching as she walked over to the group to get ready to find somewhere to stay.

**-I'm Trying Here-**

"You think this place is good?" Rick asked him, his hands on his hips as his eyes surveyed the beat-down warehouse.

"Fuck yeah. It's huge and high elevation." Daryl said, scratching at the back of his neck. At this point, he'd agree to anything to get some time with Carol. He'd been sporting a raging hard-on until he thought of dead animals for five minutes straight, and his member finally calmed down.

The ex-cop nodded, and the whole group filed into the building. Daryl watched with steady eyes as Carol found a back room to take up, her bedroll under her arm. He felt his jeans tighten again, and he tried to focus on _anything _but the fact that soon he'd get time with her.

"Let's stay here for a few days, get our bearings together then head out. Find somewhere more permanent." Rick said

Everyone nodded, too tired to argue and dispersed to their selected rooms. The hunter hung back with Rick, talking and marking places on the map for future scouting sites. Eventually, Rick grew tired and retired, leaving Daryl by himself.

Daryl walked into the room, seeing Carol sitting on her bedroll and reading a romance novel of some kind with her shoes off, a pair or discarded socks on the floor. He remembered back in the prison when she told him she couldn't sleep properly without reading. "Good book ya got there?" He asked, standing at her feet and slipping out of his own boots and socks.

She smiled up at him, _that fucking smile. _He knew that smile was only for him, dazzling white teeth and sparkling blue eyes shining at him, pure happiness written on her face.

Setting down his crossbow, he shrugged his jacket off and sat beside her, rubbing her shoulders gently. He took note of how her skin felt under his hands, the flush of her face and tremble of her shoulders. She turned to look at him, her eyes slightly dark with desire for him.

He leaned forward, pressing his lips to hers and his hands went down to her waist, lifting her onto his lap. The feeling of her lips moving in time with his had his heart pounding and his dick throbbing. He licked at her lips, and dove his tongue into her mouth as she granted him access, dipping into every crevice inside her wet cavern. A moan escaped her throat and he growled, nipping at her lips.

When she ground her hips into his crotch, he groaned like a bitch. She was taking his control all too easily and he didn't want that. Flipping them around, he pinned her to the floor in a lust-tinted manner, making sure she knew he wasn't trying to be an asshole.

Lifting her shirt over his head, he moaned as her perfect breasts came into view. "Fuck, Carol." He lowered his mouth to her nipple, sucking the taught bud into his mouth, caressing the soft flesh with his tongue. He thumbed the other nipple in rhythm with his licks, and her writhing underneath his touch was driving him insane.

Switching to the other breast, he bit down on the little pink pebble, hearing her moan and whimper. Daryl had to admit that he had no idea what he was doing, letting what he learned from pornos and his brother guide his explorations, but fuck it all. His instincts took over and any sense of intelligence left him.

_"Daryl."_ Carol cried, tugging roughly on his hair until he met her mouth with his again, tasting her deepest parts.

Her nimble fingers began to unbutton his shirt as he continued his exploration of her mouth, and he shucked the piece of fabric away from his body as soon as he could. Shaky hands ran over his tanned and muscular chest, and he watched her face that showed pure fascination and lust.

"Wanna taste ya. Can I?" His voice was foreign to his own ears, completely transformed from lust and arousal. Her frantic nod was all he needed before he undid the button on her pants, sliding them down with her panties.

Burying his nose in her curls, he took a deep breath of her scent and growled. Taking her knees and spreading her legs wide, he stared at her pink folds that were glistening with arousal. Licking his lips, he gave her a testing lick up her slit. Encouraged when her back arched and a low moan escaped her lips, he dove into her.

His tongue licked and caressed her clit, sucking the sensitive flesh into her mouth. He teased her entrance with his middle finger, pushing the digit in and groaning as her walls gripped him. His licks increased as he pumped his finger, adding another into her wet heat.

Her moans bounced of the wall, choruses of "oh"s and curse words filled the air and drove his desire. Removing his soaked fingers, he placed his tongue where his fingers were, licking her soaked walls.

_"Fuck."_ Carol cried, gripping his hair tightly. A growl reverberated through her core and she felt her arousal spike, finally tipping over the edge.

Cleaning her up and she came around him, he felt her skin twitch and she came down from her high. Crawling back up her body, she took the fingers that were inside her and sucked her own juices off his fingers, making him moan.

Undoing his belt, he shoved his pants down, thankful he went commando instead of confining his dick with constraining fabrics. Gripping himself in one hand, he kissed her as he entered her. Swallowing any moans and cries she gave, his thrust his shaft further and further with uneven thrusts until he was balls-deep inside her.

Pausing to let her adjust, he sucked on her left breast again, loving the feeling of her pert nipple under his tongue. Palming the other, he was content waiting for her as long as he was allowed to suckle her chest all day long.

The feeling of hands gripping his ass had him moving, thrusting slow and deep into her, trying to hit that certain spot over and over again. It had been a while since he had done this, never really giving a shit about the twenty-cent-whores he fucked in his truck or in a bathroom stall. But feeling his dick sliding in and out of her pussy over and over, her hips snapping against his in time with him, he knew that it felt better than any other time because he _cared _for Carol. He actually cared about her well-being and whether or not she was enjoying this as much as him.

When her hand slid in between them, he growled and grabbed her hand, nipping at her fingers. _"That's mine." _He replaced her hand with his, his thumb circling her clit in rhythm with his thrusts.

"Ah, Daryl! I-I'm close!" She cried, moving her hips quicker to seek relief. He complied with her new pace, snapping his hips in an animal-like fashion, flexing his arms and back as she squeezed his ass.

The feeling of her walls contracting around him had him holding her legs up close to her shoulders, pounding into her roughly and reaching his release. A dozen long cords of seamen shot into her, coating her insides.

Falling down beside her, he fought to caught his breath as he pulled her into his chest, kissing her slowly and softly.

"What does this mean, Daryl?" Her voice was soft and unsure, yet deep and laced with passion.

A grin split his face, and he pressed his nose into her hair. "It means you're mine, Woman. You and me are together now, whether you like it or not. I have no idea what I'm doing, and I'm gonna fuck up. But I'm trying here."

She smiled and kissed him, answering his silent hope for her to agree. The two were unaware of the lack-of-sleep they caused everyone else with their yelling and moaning, but none of them minded. It was about damn time. 

**Well. My first time writing smut. Let me know how I did! This was originally supposed to he fluff…but this happened. Review and let me know if I should make a story out of this!**

**~Rioter**


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